DREAM FOUR

I’m in a movie theatre waiting for the flick to start. The previews are on or something. Suddenly I’m struck with an impulse to purchase a large colorful bag of butter popcorn, so I emerge from the dark booming room and make my way to the concession stand in the lobby. A girl in the green polo shirt and matching visor is working behind the counter, waiting frantically on a long line of people. Her long brown ponytail is flopping about like a windsock.

I’m crushed because movie theater concession lines are the slowest things on earth. My frustrations mount and press on my heart. I’m torn between the crunchy movie snack and the movie. I decide to wait.

After much anxiety, I get to the front of the line. The display cases are glowing like the Jujubes and the Milk Duds have been dipped in gold and studded with sapphires. On my left, the glorious popcorn machine is erupting sweet buttery manna and I almost wet my pants with excitement. I tell green visor girl what I want. She immediately launches into a complex movie concession stand dance behind the counter and finally produces a candy striped box. But it’s not the right stuff. It looks funny, smells funny. I taste it. No. It’s caramel corn. Not what I ordered. I keep trying to get her attention, trying to tell her she made a mistake. I’m pointing at Mount Saint Popcorn, but it’s no use. She has already choreographed a new dance for the next customer. So I keep waiting. Biting my lip in regret over the movie I am missing.